The Fallen Angel
by Jessiikaa15
Summary: Dark!Powerful!Evil!Harry. Harry found magic at a much earlier age, armed with power over the Dursley's he repays them for their loving care and takes over the house hold. Cold, cruel and sadistic Harry works in secret to get what he wants no matter what the price while in the eyes of the people he's simply an angel. Hogwarts will be in for a surprise if they think he's anyones hero


_**A/N: Hey guys, I've had quite a few people say that they are interested in this story so I thought I would put up the first chapter as a taster to see what you think. I can tell you now though that this story is going to be a slow mover because my other story take priority and I wouldn't be uploading a new fic yet anyway, the only reason I am is because I've had 12 requests in the past 2 weeks asking to read this fic**_

_**Disclaimer; Unfortunately I am not J.K, if I was Harry would be Dark!**_

_**Warning; Mentions of abuse, and violence,**_

_**The Fallen Angel,**_

Albus Dumbledore was a happy man. Today would be the day where he would re-introduce Harry Potter to the wizarding world. After the terrible attack on Halloween when the Potters were killed and Harry survived 10 years ago, Dumbledore saw fit to place the last Potter with his only living relatives; Petunia Dursley. Petunia and her husband were muggles and Dumbledore thought it best if Harry were to grow up away from the fame and attention which he was bound to get in the wizarding world.

It was a hard decision to take the child away from the world in which he belonged, but Dumbledore believed his safety was much more important and he had no doubt that Voldemort's followers wouldn't stop until they had killed the boy behind their master's downfall. No it was best that Harry was hidden until he was 11 and he could be safely behind the walls of Hogwarts where he would be free to learn the wonders of magic. Dumbledore knew that putting the boy with Petunia was a risk, the girl had a rather odd temperament around magic, but he never once doubted the power of love and he was sure that she would treat her nephew, the last remaining link to Lily, as her own.

It didn't occur to him that she would hate the boy, it never once occurred to him that the boy would never know love or kindness from his family, and it never occurred to him that the boy would learn to hate because of it. Because of this simple and highly one-sided mindset, it never occurred to Dumbledore to check on the boy to make sure he was growing up happy and it never occurred to him that the boy who had once been full of joy and happiness had had that innocent spark forcefully removed from him by no one but himself. And it was because of this Dumbledore was happy when he apperated to the edge of Privet Drive in his purple robes, he strode quickly to number 4 and rapped smartly on the door. A thin woman, that he quickly recognised as Petunia even though he had never met her, answered, she had dark hair and a horse like face, but there was a slight resemblance to Lily Potter within her face.

"Good afternoon Mrs Dursley, my name is Albus Dumbledore; I've come about your nephew." Dumbledore said joyfully, he had a foreboding feeling grow on him when Petunia went sheet white and an expression of pure terror reached her face.

"H-Harry, yes of course, come in won't you?" She stuttered after she regained control of herself. Petunia led him in to comfortable lounge and offered a chair, Dumbledore smiled in thanks.

"So how has Harry grown up?" Dumbledore asked, Petunia thought for a moment before she could open her mouth to speak, a smooth, cold, musical voice interrupted her from the kitchen.

"Where is Petunia?" The woman in question went pale and Dumbledore looked around startled.

"She went to answer the door, I believe they're in the lounge now sir," Answered a gruff voice.

"Petunia, who was at the door?" Said the same musical voice from the doorway, but this time it had a hard edge. Petunia was now a sickly green colour and undiluted fear was etched upon her face and the aged headmaster grew worried at what could cause that amount of fear. Dumbledore turned towards the door and had to use all his control not to gape, when he came to see Harry Potter he expected a clone of James; he was wrong; so wrong. Stood in the doorway was something that could only be described as a fallen angel. The child's Black heritage from his grandmother had shone through and the sheer beauty that Lily Evans used to be were key factors in the boys look, there were no other words but stunning. Lithe toned frame, raven hair fell in light waves to his shoulders contrasting beautifully with the alabaster skin, pink plump lips, sharp straight nose, and high angular cheek bones that gave him a perfect pureblood heir finish. What caught Dumbledore were the eyes, glowing livid against the creamy skin were the colour of death itself; Avada Kedavra.

Harry was stood in an elegant stance and his face was hard, cold and commanding, his magic thick in the air making him an intimidating sight. Harry was annoyed that his aunt saw fit to let someone in to his house without alerting him, he was about to punish her for her disobedience when he spotted and aged man in hideous purple robes and immediately understood. Harry's whole demeanour changed in a second, so fast that Dumbledore was unsure if he saw it at all, the child in front of him looked so innocent and young. A small, but beautiful smile grace his face that was warm and welcoming, it was a look that Harry used often to charm people; it never failed because it sucked people in to his façade, in to what he wanted people to see.

"Harry its lovely to see you again my boy my name is Professor Dumbledore and I am headmaster of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry, I am here to offer you a place at my school." Harry came in to the room and sat down in the centre of the sofa; Petunia immediately rose and left the room closing the door behind her.

"The best school in Europe for magic and what do you mean again sir." Harry's voice was smooth, warm, captivating, Dumbledore was hooked.

"I see your aunt has told you of magic that is good as for again, I was the one who brought you to your family after the tragic happenings off Halloween." Dumbledore explained gravely, Harry blinked and his magic came out in his anger, face closing of completely.

"You brought me here after my parents were killed?" Harry's voice was void of all emotion, but it was ice cold, Dumbledore got the foreboding feeling back 10x the force.

"Yes, it was for the best. We were at war, a man who called himself Lord Voldemort submerged himself in the dark arts and wanted to kill all muggles and muggleborns, it was dark times your parents were supporters of the light and fought against him. Your parents were in hiding from Voldemort, he was given the information to where they were hiding and he attacked. Your parents were killed but when he turned his wand on you the curse, which has never failed and is impossible to block or stopped, failed to kill you returning to its caster and destroying Voldemort. You were and still are hailed a hero in our world but Voldemort's followers were still after you so I placed you here with the protection of your mother's blood for safety." Dumbledore told him gently, Harry switched back to his innocent childlike face with a sad demeanour making Dumbledore forget the coldness of before.

"I understand," Harry said softly.

"When you come back to the wizarding world you may find it difficult as you are a celebrity, everyone knows your name." Dumbledore said meaningfully, but Harry just smiled.

"I adapt very well headmaster so I don't think it shall be too much trouble." Harry explained Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Very well."

"I'm guessing sir that it was yourself that advised my parents to go in to hiding." Harry worded that sentence very carefully so he didn't sound accusing.

"Yes I did but unfortunately they placed there trust in the wrong person." The old man sighed.

"I have got a definite place at Hogwarts and once I go I don't have to come back to _them_." Harry couldn't help the open disgust and disdain that came out in the mention of his 'family'. Dumbledore stopped dead blood running cold at the tone it sounded so familiar, the foreboding was growing fast so he answered carefully.

"No not until next summer when the school is closed, why do you not return to your family Harry, do you not get on?" This time the cold harshness of the child was noticeable to anyone.

"I believe that someone like me should not have to have company such as them, besides living here surrounded by people so plain is something I would rather not do." Dumbledore was forcefully reminded of another orphan who spoke so coldly about the muggles around him, but before he could say anything Harry was speaking again.

"How do I gather my supplies needed for school?" Harry asked.

"There is a pub in London, go in there and ask for Tom the barman he will let you through to Diagon Ally you will need to go to Gringotts the wizard bank you have a vault where you're parents have left you some money. I am quite willing to come with you if you wish."

"No that will be quite alright I will be perfectly fine, I am used to doing things independently and I'm sure you have much more important things to do." Harry said indifferently, Dumbledore sighed and handed over a letter and golden key.

"If that is all Professor my aunt will show you to the door." Harry told him, Dumbledore rose and left with Petunia showing him out. It would only be when he got back to his office that Dumbledore would realise that Harry had been manipulating his emotions and responses and it would be after that when the feeling of dread and foreboding would come back in buckets.

* * *

Harry Potter was looking through the think parchment letter the Headmaster had given him, he could honestly say he was excited for the first time in years. He couldn't wait to get to Diagon ally and see everything for the first time, sure he knew about magic; had done for years, but he had never been to anywhere magical. There was a tinkering of breaking glass from the kitchen bringing his attention back to his 'family', Harry sneered at the very thought of them, he rose gracefully and made his way to the kitchen; footsteps silent from years of training.

"Petunia," His voice was smooth, cold and cruel something no 11 year old should be able to accomplish; she went white and started shaking violently.

"Y-y-yes s-sir?" She was on her knees head bowed.

"What are the rules concerning allowing people entrance to my house." Harry asked softly.

"W-we must a-always seek your a-approval f-f-first." She stuttered and whimpered when Harry's magic started to grip her.

"Correct, so tell me why I came down to find someone of importance in the living room?"

"I-I,"

"You disgust me did you know, people like you, so common, so weak, so pathetic." Harry hissed at her making his magic wrap around her and squeeze, she choked getting redder in the face, just as she was about to pass out Harry released her and she fell forward gasping for air.

"Let that be a reminder of what can happen if you disobey me!" Harry warned his voice ice cold and his eyes glowing death. Harry went upstairs to his bedroom, Harry slept in the master bedroom now, he remembered when he used to be forced to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs and smiled chillingly; a lot had changed. Back then he didn't know about his power and he was bullied and ridiculed, they soon realized their mistakes Harry thought with a cruel look. He would never forget Petunias screams as his magic caused her so much pain, he relished in his uncles pleas as he made his magic cut in to him over and over again, Dudley had been the best after he had caused the pig some pain he called some snake friends and set them on the piece of lard; that particular memory still brought tears to his eyes.

Ever since he learned to control his power he began using it for his gain, he could make people do things he wanted; control them physically, manipulate their thoughts, play with their emotions, he could cause them pain leaving no evidence; if he wished, he could kill and leave no trace if someone annoyed him. No one would look to him if anything happened in the neighbourhood because he had the perfect mask of young innocents; people adored him, Harry was an honoured student and with his magic subtly manipulating people and his mask no one questioned anything he did; he was loved by everyone; young Harry Potter intelligent at such a young age, so polite, perfect at everything. He was a prodigy, he was smart, he could paint, sing, play instruments, he was multi lingual and of course he was so modest so selfless, how could anyone now love such a child. He was a beacon in the community, a child that all parents wished for, and he made sure nothing could change that.

At one time, the Dursley's had tried to go against him, they had tried to spread wild rumours of his 'evil' of his 'freakishness', but it fell on deaf ears and it turned the community against them because it simply wasn't possible for sweet, kind, caring, beautiful Harry Potter to be anything but perfect. It was the their last hope and Harry got to watch the true beauty as their wills broke to bend to his, they realised there was no escape, there was no hiding from his wrath and they would pay for everything they had put him through; and so much more. He had enjoyed that night. They screamed and screamed as he tortured them, Harry was going to leave them after a while until Vernon had muttered the one word he hated above all others; freak. That was the one thing that made him lose control of his tightly held emotions, that word which had been beaten in to him when he was younger, weaker and at one point he had truly started to believe that he was a freak, not worthy; a worthless freak. He hated the word, the mere thought of it made his magic spike in his anger. It reminded him of a time where he didn't know, where it wasn't apparent that he was their better, where he believed that he was the one to blame for the unjust care he was given.

It made that night even more memorable because none of them were ever the same again, he had shown them truly what could happen if they angered him, and to this day it was something that stuck with them. Every time they closed their eyes they would see his face on that night, the beautiful, angelic face morphed in to a twisted, bloodthirsty smile like a pure demon. They knew he was evil, but that night it was solidified in to their minds because it wasn't the fact that his smile was full of malice and his eyes shone with glee as he snapped Vernon's bones like they were merely sticks, it was the fact that the smile that adorned his face made him seem so much more beautiful and entrancing, and no one would ever know what lay beneath because he didn't want them to; he was a demon, a monster and they had created him. Harry relished in their fear, in their subservience and he never let them forget.

One thing he had learned about himself though was he held a deep craving, a thirst to be great, no not great beyond great, he wanted to be extraordinary and if he wanted to be extraordinary then so help anyone who stood in his way because Harry always got what he wanted; eventually. It didn't matter how much work he had to put in to it, or how much time and effort he had to spend, if Harry saw worth in something then he would accomplish it simply because he forbid himself not to succeed at everything he put his mind too. That was the reason why Harry pushed himself to be the best, when he discovered he had a talent to paint he practiced until his work became a city success and people began to buy his work. When he realised that he could play music then he learned all the instruments that had gained his attention, he learned the piano, the guitar, the cello, the flute, and his favourite; the violin. Once he had mastered his chosen instruments he began to write his own music, letting it flow out of him like an extension releasing all the pent up emotions he refused to express around the filth that surrounded him.

He hated people as a rule, they had never helped him when he needed it and now he used them as a means to an end, they helped him learn how to control his power, even if they didn't come out of it totally unscarred. Harry had also taken it upon himself to learn martial arts at an early on so if he couldn't use magic he could get out of most situations his sensei taught him about pressure points and Harry took vindictive pleasure in crippling someone with one finger and he had taught himself to use his magic to aid him in fighting making him quicker, stronger, sharper, better. He excelled at it. His lithe, nimble frame was perfect for martial arts and Harry quickly adapted the styles he was taught to better aid him, it wasn't a specific style, but it was highly effective and made for a deadly attack when needed. He had only had to used martial arts once before, it was when he had been caught off guard and his instincts told him to fight instead of calling to his powers. The thrill he got when hurting people with his magic was still present when he crippled the man who had dared touch him, the glee he had felt when he had used his bare hands to shatter the man was more then intoxicating and it made him train harder to be the very best.

When he first found his power, when he was scared of it, he forced Petunia to tell him all she knew and it was then he discovered he was different, better, above them; he had magic. Harry made sure the Dursley's were constantly reminded of that fact, he made sure that they didn't forget who was the superior, he made sure they respected him and if they didn't they felt his wrath. It was a beautiful relationship they held with a perfectly clear understanding, and Harry was perfectly content with that.

With the information the headmaster had given him he had a lot to think over, first and foremost being; who was Lord Voldemort and what were his true beliefs. Harry refused to base his opinion on someone so obviously on the opposing side of this apparent war, he figured that behind every leaders actions there was a motive that made them act as they did so Harry made a point to find out, that way when he formed an opinion of Lord Voldemort it would be of his own mind not something force fed to him. Another thing was what was the difference between dark and light, he didn't see why magic had labels, it confused him which was something he did not appreciate in the slightest, but riddles always caught his endless curiosity and so he added it to his mental list. In his confusion he wondered why his parents were hiding in the first place. If they believed in their cause, in the 'light' side they were on, why were they hiding away and not fighting, Harry couldn't grasp the concept of hiding when something he believed in was on the line; it was inconceivable to him. He didn't know he parents, he never had and so he had never formed any emotional attachment to them, they were merely people that brought him to life and while he was inevitably thankful to them, he didn't feel as if he owed then anything and didn't feel anything about their deaths. He did want to know why they were hiding though, by how Dumbledore had spoken about them Harry didn't believe they were the type of people to sit around and hide so Harry came to the conclusion that there must be a reason.

What got to Harry was Dumbledore. Who the hell did this old man think he was? What made his parents listen to a headmaster and go in to hiding? And what gave him the right to decide where Harry would grow up, this man had placed him with his _family_ and left him there to suffer, something which Harry found unacceptable and unforgivable. If that didn't give Harry a reason to be wary of the old man then his magic certainly did, he could feel the magic rolling of the headmaster showing Harry his power, it was bright and very sweet leaving a nasty taste in Harry's mouth. But after he got through the thick fog Harry had properly felt the headmaster's magic, it was tainted in manipulations and a hidden cunning that brought him on his guard; he would have to be extremely careful around him, but Harry was a master of that game and he wouldn't be outdone. Manipulations and secrets was how he lived, he worked in the open for everyone to see, but they were so blinded by what he presented to them that they never actually saw what he was doing, by that time it was always too late and they wouldn't think pinning it on him.

Of course he would have to build up his network again, he would have to create his image and present it in the correct light to have everyone adoring over him again leaving him free to do as he pleased. Yes that sounded perfect to Harry so tomorrow, he decided, he would go to Diagon ally and get as many books as possible after all Harry thought knowledge is power. He needed to find everything about the wizarding world and its customs, he would not go to Hogwarts ignorant it was just disrespectful and he wanted a book on wizarding etiquette to see how it differed from the ordinary people because he refused to show himself up, he absorbed knowledge like breathing so it would be no trouble and he would have to look up all the information of his supposed fame and see what it was actually like. If it was as strong as the headmaster said then he would be in the spotlight a lot so he would have to adapt his image accordingly. He was used to attention so it shouldn't be too difficult, but that meant he would be working underground, it would be a shame that he couldn't openly torture anyone, but then again he couldn't do that anyway; he would have to keep his temper in check, it shouldn't be too difficult as long as no one pushed him or then things would get ugly.

He could usually hold his temper well but there were something's that made him tick and when he snapped it normally ended in blood shed or loss of life, there was only one thing that calmed him and that was his violin. He didn't know why it calmed him so, but it did and the one he had currently was old and he was in need of a new one. Unfortunately, he couldn't find the perfect one so he designed one himself, he had drawn it to have it custom made, but he couldn't afford to blow £1500 for a violin no matter how much he wanted too. Harry made a mental list of all the things he wanted to cover when he went to Diagon Ally, he would make Vernon take him when he wanted to go. He would have to make multiple trips to the alley by the looks of things, but he wasn't too bothered by that fact because he was making sure he had everything under control. The last thing he wanted was to be unprepared in a new world and have his control taken from him, no, he didn't care how many trips it took, he would be fully prepared and only then would he be fit to go to Hogwarts.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was a very confused man, he was pacing his office muttering about his encounter with Harry Potter. He would be lying to himself if he didn't admit the boy worried him, he didn't notice anything strange until he had returned to his office when warning signals and chills hit him like the knight bus. Originally Dumbledore thought it was a coincidence so he went to be with the uneasy feeling but when he awoke and the feeling had only grown he knew he must be missing something important. Harry seemed a lovely child, perfectly polite, and a beautiful young boy, but there was something Dumbledore was missing and his gut was telling him it wasn't anything good. His alarm went off signalling someone was coming up the staircase so he took a seat behind his desk just as his potions master entered, the dark haired man took the seat on the other side of the desk.

"Ah Severus I didn't expect you so early." Dumbledore said joyfully, Severus rolled his eyes.

"I wished to have the day brewing Headmaster, Poppy has a substantial list she wishes me to make." Severus told him in a drawl.

"Very well, I supposed you're wondering why I called you up here in the first place." Dumbledore stated.

"It had crossed my mind."

"Yesterday I went to see Harry Potter to re-introduce him to our world." Dumbledore began and Severus' expression immediately darkened.

"So how is the pampered prince, is he excited to get back to his adoring fans?" The potions master sneered.

"Harry is nothing like any of us expected and I can't help feel I am missing something important." Dumbledore sighed in a frustrated manor, Snape raised his eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Yes I was most surprised myself, but there is something that is wrong, something important, but I can't put my finger on it. Would you care to review the memory with me, your observation skills are the best I know." Snape nodded and the aged headmaster took out his pencieve, placing his wand to his temple Albus drew out the long silvery thread and let it fall in to the large stone basin. Snape and Dumbledore dipped their heads in and fell in to the mist landing outside Privet Drive, the pair watched as past Dumbledore strode up to no.4 and knocked on the door. At the mention of Harry's name the woman looked on in fear Dumbledore's brow frowned; he didn't remember that clearly.

They entered the house now and Snape was confused at the fear, but sheer terror when that musical voice rang out shocked him, he watched closely hearing no footsteps as the voice approached, the voice sounded again, but it was harder, higher, colder than before and Snape turned to look at the source. He felt his eyes widen at the boy in the door way, the boy, clearly Harry Potter by the scar, was nothing like James Potter. Lily Evans beauty was there, but the boy was the epitome of beauty and grace; a pureblood heir, Potter was stood in the door way and it was easy to forget that he was just 11 because of the sight he held. Cold, hard, blank face and an obvious superiority stance, one Severus had only seen used by one other; the Dark Lord. Snape swallowed hard, he understood the worried feelings from the headmaster and as the potions master looked up in to the child's eyes he barely contained a gasp, they were the same shape as Lily Evans', but they held none of her warmth or kindness, and none of the innocents that were usually in a child's eyes. They were chips of ice, sharp and deadly, but more importantly, they were the colour of Avada Kedavra; the colour of certain death.

Potter's eyes flicked around the room and landed on the headmaster, Severus' eyebrows shot up as the child's demeanour changed instantly it was almost impossible to believe it was the same boy stood in the doorway, this one was now so young so innocent; like a completely different person. Severus noticed them memory blur around the edges and his eyes widened for the second time, the boy was altering the headmasters mind and emotions, it was subtle, something that, had they not been witnessing the memory in a pencieve, they wouldn't have noticed, even with Legilimency. Petunia upped and left when Potter came and sat down, Snape watched with a new interest as Dumbledore explained everything to the boy and when Dumbledore told him it was himself who placed Harry at his home Snape took a step back at the look on the boy's face, it was something that no ordinary 11 year old should be able to achieve. The expression was murderous and it was gone as soon as it came, it was alarming and put him on edge, the control the boy had was astounding.

The memory blurred again this time a substantial amount more, the innocent look was back, but the disgust was shocking when the boy spoke of his family and Snape got a feeling of dread as the boy already saw muggles were beneath him. The potions master was surprised that the boy didn't even take notice of the fact he was famous, he was more interested of who sent his parents in to hiding, he saw the memory blur a final time as Dumbledore handed over the necessary things to the child but he noted the boys subtle order for Petunia to show the Headmaster out. Snape came out of the pencieve in a state of shock and he sat down on the chair in front of the headmaster's desk in silence.

"It seems I have missed a great deal." Dumbledore murmured and Snape actually snorted.

"That is obvious."

"Why would I have missed such detail?" Dumbledore seemed generally confused.

"Headmaster the only explanation is the child." Snape told him, but child did not seem like the correct term.

"Impossible, how would he achieve something like that?"

"The boys magic of course, but that is not the concern, how the boy spoke of muggles is what flagged warning signs." Dumbledore aged in front of him and sighed.

"Maybe he and his family just don't get on, when he is at Hogwarts he will forget petty indifferences." To Snape it seemed as if Dumbledore was trying to convince himself, Severus wasn't fooled though, there was obvious loathing in the boy's speech and a hate like that would have had to have come from somewhere meaning it had time to fester, something which was never good.

"We will just have to keep a close eye on him when he comes to Hogwarts." Snape nodded and left the office when he was dismissed, as he strode down to his lab there was one clear thought in his mind; he would not treat Harry Potter as James Potter's son. Snape was a Slytherin to the core with that boy's magic there would be no doubt of unpleasant consequences and Snape's survival instinct was rather high. Snape was also thankful that he had never sworn an oath to Albus himself only to the boy because there was no doubt in his mind, Harry Potter would never follow anyone.

**There it is, the first chapter of The Fallen Angle! What do you think for an opening, I promise, as soon as I make leeway with my other fics then this one will be moved up to the top of the pile. Let me know what you think please, thanks,**

**Jess***


End file.
